


atlas in his sleep

by alphamikefoxtrot



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphamikefoxtrot/pseuds/alphamikefoxtrot
Summary: In which the past was revisited.
Relationships: John Constantine & Rupert Giles, John Constantine/Rupert Giles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	atlas in his sleep

“We’re not going to have sex.”

That’s right. He’d told John those precise words and the man had honoured it.

It came as a surprise when they both crossed paths again, in Croydon at that, after so many years between England and the Hellmouth in Sunnydale. Rupert felt out of place in the wake of John Constantine who didn’t seem to change where he himself had turned soft with age. John looked _good_ , too, traded the leather and spikes with a respectable ( _ha!_ ) dark suit that fit him in all the right ways. (Rupert was glad he had ditched the tweed.) John was still incorrigible and utterly shameless, the smell of oranges and tobacco clinging to him like it was his essence. 

Still. Rupert was underneath him, the two of them down to their rumpled shirtsleeves, when he said that. He thought he’d surprised even himself but John took it in stride and kissed him on the cheek before rolling on his back to light a cigarette.

“Y'know ’m gonna hold y'to that,” he said.

Rupert swallowed, itching for a smoke. “I know.” He wished he had John’s nonchalance. 

Then at least two near-apocalypses and much later, Rupert would realise it wasn’t the lack of want that had stopped him. For him, sex had a rather tangled affair with trust and he’d had both tainted—if not outright broken—by near-relationships (what a laugh, that—he had no relationships at all, romantic or otherwise) that coloured his perspective in an ugly shade. In time, he would learn again.

For now, as they sleep, John’s warmth and solid weight in his arms was enough.

For now he was _himself_. Neither the Watcher nor the guardian. Not even the ‘adult’.

For now, believing this was enough was also enough.

**Author's Note:**

> originally written on tumblr for the one wonderful, wonderful John Constantine writer.


End file.
